


Search and Rescue

by Brate



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brate/pseuds/Brate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McKay needs help desperately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Search and Rescue

John Sheppard walked through the door of Rodney McKay's lab and narrowly missed being beaned by a book flying through the air. Ducking another projectile, he cautiously looked to see what the problem was.

Rodney was frantically pulling out drawers, opening cabinets, and tossing around everything that wasn't nailed down. John watched him for a few moments before venturing, "Um… McKay?"

"What?" Rodney snapped, not bothering to look up or stop searching.

John took a step back, stunned by the force of McKay's ire. "Did someone swipe your Tickle Me Elmo?"

"If you must know I'm looking for a pen," Rodney said, pushing aside a stack of papers.

"Pen?"

"Specifically, the ink cartridge."

"Ink cartridge?"

McKay finally looked up. "Are you going to stand there performing your Myna bird impersonation or are you going to help me?"

John shrugged. "I guess I could help."

"How very kind of you. Look over there," Rodney said, pointing to the corner.

After John searched for few minutes, moving stuff from Point A to Point B, he called, "What exactly am I looking for?"

Rodney gave a frustrated growl. "Oh, for God's sake, Major. I assume you finished college and you can understand the words 'ink' and 'cartridge'?" He held up a small black and silver cylinder with a flourish. "Like this one."

"And why is this so important?"

"It's my pen."

"We have lots of pens. I can get you a handful from my office. I don't use 'em."

"I like _this_ pen."

"Why?"

"Because it's mine, okay?" Rodney waved the pen around. "I've had this pen for years, I enjoy writing with this pen, and I am comfortable with this pen."

"So… I'm guessing you like that pen."

"Yes, that is precisely what I'm saying. And I knew we might be stuck here, so I packed a case of refills. Enough to last for years."

"And?"

"And I put them somewhere to keep them safe."

John grinned suddenly, realizing the "genius'" predicament. "You forgot where you stashed them!"

"I have many things to think about, Major, not the least of which is finding some miracle to defeat the Wraith. I can't be expected to remember the location of every last paperclip and stapler."

"So the location of the ink refills didn't make the cut."

"Apparently," Rodney admitted.

"Heh."

"It's not funny."

"Yeah, it is."

Rodney shot him a hard stare.

"If it's that important," John said, "I can have twenty marines here within five minutes to help you search." He raised his eyebrows innocently.

"As much as I would like to accept your oh-so-generous offer, it would make me the laughingstock of Atlantis if I did," Rodney said. "No, I'll just have to find them on my own."

"Okay, if you don't want twenty marines, how about one Air Force major?"

"You think you're worth twenty Marines?"

John was offended. "Of course not."

"I thought as much."

"I'm worth _at least_ thirty."

Rodney sighed. "Why do I bother?"

"Because—"

"That was a rhetorical question."

"Oh." John nodded. "You didn't say that."

"Can we please get back to the business at hand?"

"Which is…?"

"Finding my ink cartridges," Rodney growled through clenched teeth.

"Oh, yeah, right. Okay. Where's the last place you saw them?"

"Does that _ever_ work? If I could remember that, I would most certainly remember where they are."

"Probably," Sheppard admitted. "All right, what were they packed in to come to Atlantis?"

"The case was in a crate with a naquadah generator."

"And I assume you unpacked the crate."

Rodney snorted. "Of course. As if I would trust anyone here to unpack my under shorts, let alone an irreplaceable power source."

"Of course," John agreed. "Where were you when you unpacked it?"

"Over there." Rodney gestured vaguely.

"Stand over there," John directed.

"Why?"

"Repeating actions help nudge memory."

"Is that so, Doctor Sheppard?"

John smirked. "Trust me."

"Two scarier words have yet to be uttered," McKay murmured as he grudgingly moved over, standing with his arms out wide. "Now what?" he snapped.

"Now pretend to unload the crate."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "You're trying to make me look stupid, aren't you?"

"You don't need my help with that," John assured him. "What I _am_ doing is trying to help you find your precious load of ink."

"Carton," Rodney corrected.

"Whatever. Now pretend, dammit."

John held his laughter as Rodney mimed unloading a big invisible box, but it took all his willpower. If he'd only thought to snag a video camera…

Rodney's head popped up and a wide grin spread across his face. "I've got it!" He ran out the door, nearly tripping over the lab debris strewn around.

"At least he didn't say 'Eureka'," John said to the empty room.

Within a minute, the scientist has returned, triumphantly holding a small cardboard box aloft as if it were the Crown Jewels.

John leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. "Where was it?"

"I stuck it in a corner cabinet in Kavanaugh's lab. I knew no one would purposely go in there, and he would be too lazy to search it."

"Very clever," John deadpanned.

Breaking open the box seal, Rodney caressed the packaged cartridges inside. "Now I can get back to business." He looked to one side of the box, then the other. His brows scrunched together in a frown as he scanned the chaotic lab.

"What now?" John sighed.

Rodney's face flushed a dull red. "Did you see where I put my pen?"

 

 _To hold a pen is to be at war._  
-Voltaire


End file.
